


Fracture

by naiad (iamnaiad)



Category: Gute Zeiten Schlechte Zeiten
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnaiad/pseuds/naiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lenny wonders if their mirrors reflect their real faces or if they lie like his did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fracture

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queen_ypolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_ypolita/gifts).



> Thanks to Julad and Sin and Cereta for last minute German-picking.

Blood rolls down his hand, the drop leaving a vivid red streak as it travels along his finger.  The cut is on his knuckle – knuckles – but Lenny can’t feel anything except a gentle reassuring throb.

The mirror is cracked now. His dad will be pissed.  Just another thing Lenny has done wrong; further proof that he’s useless, and even worse, destructive.

He studies his face again; he doesn’t want to, but can’t look away.  The mirror’s jagged fractures make him look grotesque.  His insides are finally outside and he imagines this is what people see when they look at him.  It’s what Emily sees when she screams at him, what she sees when she closes her eyes and remembers kissing him, sleeping with him, living with him.  His fractured face.  His true self.  Lenny knows with certainty that this is who Carsten sees when he shakes his head and curls his lip with derision.  There is nothing good to see.  His reflection is now who he is; an honest mirror, finally.

Lenny pokes his face with disinterest.  This face isn’t him at all, and yet it’s more him than any reflection he’s looked at in the past three years.  His finger leaves a smudge of red on his cheekbone.  It’s an extra element of Pitbull.

He flexes his hand and looks at the mirror.  Maybe one more.

~

Mauerwerk is surreal.  Everybody is going about their usual business, no one cares; there is no trauma or dramatic dark secrets.  There’s a woman in the corner reading as she sips wine and a man two tables away that can’t stop glancing at her.  Lenny knows those glances.  Soon the man won’t be able to help himself.  He’ll need to act, to speak to her.  That’s when it will turn to shit.

The man stands and Lenny wonders if their mirrors reflect their real faces or if they lie like his did for so long.

Or maybe he’s changed.  If he’d never met Carsten, never touched Carsten, would his reflection still be clear and strong?  He’s going to pretend the answer is yes.

The woman is laughing, her head thrown back with her hand resting gently on the man’s forearm.  It’s so simple.  For a moment Lenny wants to draw them, to capture that point in time where there are no worries, no fears and no hidden monsters escaping through the cracks.

He won’t draw them.  Nor anyone else.  That moment is too familiar.  With Emily it was clear and fun.  They both knew the game they were playing; Lenny had been giddy with it, his smile impossible to suppress.  After everything at the Bund, it had been just what he needed.  The reassurance that he was okay, that he wasn’t only a target for anger and derision; a beautiful girl could want him.

The moment with Carsten was less recognisable, but he sees now what it was.  He wonders if Carsten does too.  Probably.  Carsten has breezed through this whole thing with barely a blink.  Lenny wants to hate him; tries to hate him.

The Carsten moment was made up of many: training and laughing so hard at mock insults that neither of them could throw a punch, running until breathless and knowing without speaking that the next stop was a beer, the exhilaration of a fight and the gleam in Carsten’s eyes that was, Lenny is sure, reflected in his own.

Those moments were about friendship, not courtship.  Except that isn’t true.  It isn’t in the slightest bit true.

The man and woman leave arm in arm.  Lenny finishes his beer and calls for another.

~

His mother wants to know what’s wrong.  She sees that his days are now the same, one after the other.  Routine is keeping him functional, a fact that is as hilarious as it is unlikely.  But so it is.  He works, he drinks, he sleeps; he feigns sleep.

She thinks it’s Emily.  Lenny can’t bring himself to say anything at all.  Besides, she’s right.  Even if she is also terribly and terrifyingly wrong.

“It’s nothing,” he says.  “I’m just tired.” 

She’s followed him into his room for the fourth time this week, but he doesn’t have the energy to tell her to get out.  He doesn’t really want to.  It’s nice to feel like a little boy again.  Everything was easier then.

“You need to tell me what’s wrong.  We’re worried.”

She strokes his hair, but that doesn’t stop the flare of anger that jams in Lenny’s throat when she says ‘we’.  He hasn’t said a word to his father since moving back home.  His dad hasn’t said anything about it.  It’s surprising and an extra piece of confusion for his already overloaded brain.

He rolls away; curls on his side.  “I’ll be fine.  It’s just…”  He has no words for this.  No way to tell her that he’s hideous and that if only she could see then she would leave too.  Lenny wishes he could leave, but he would only take the ugliness with him.  He knows that now.

There has to be a way to get rid of it.  He knows this; it’s just a matter of figuring it out.  He can’t let it be free, he’ll lose everything.  Maybe he can drive it out.  It would be worth it if it meant he could keep his family – and he never would have thought that even two weeks ago.

Perhaps Emily was just the wrong girl.  He rolls up and hugs his mother.  “I’ll be fine,” he says and smiles.

~

The club is insane.  The crowd is pushing the limits of the dance floor and the bar.  It’s perfect.  Lenny runs a hand back and forth over his head.  His knuckles have healed, but they still tug when stretched straight.

Lenny smiles, bobs his head slightly with the beat and heads to the bar.  This is not his sort of place usually and it makes his skin feel a little too tight.  This is Lucy’s recommendation and he can see immediately why she likes it.  She’s never had a problem with crowds or with making people see her.  For tonight Lenny will pretend to be Lucy.  Just a little bit.

“Two beers,” he says when he finally reaches the front of the bar.  He doesn’t want to wait again, and he definitely needs more than one drink.

With the two bottles curled together in one hand Lenny pushes away from the bar and out into the crowd.  Halfway through his second drink a woman approaches him.  She looks nothing like Emily – she’s much older for a start.  He swallows, then smiles at her as she reaches for his beer and replaces it with another.

“You looked thirsty,” she says.  It’s a terrible line, something Lenny would deride with glee if he heard it at Mauerwerk or saw it in one of those terrible movies that Emily loves.  But it doesn’t matter, because it’s true and if she’s desperate enough to try that then she’s perfect for him.

Lenny accepts the beer with a smile.  “Thanks.”

“No problem.”  She smiles back at him and her hand lingers on his as she steals the beer back and takes a sip.  “I’m Caroline.  Do you want to dance?”

He doesn’t, because he can’t, but if he wants what he came for then he will have to dance.  Lenny finishes his drink in one long swallow and allows himself to be led into the dancing crowd.

Moments, seconds, later he is pressed firmly against soft curves.  Lenny slides his arms around Caroline’s waist, loops one around her waist and lets the other drift down to her ass.  She moves them side to side and Lenny’s mind wanders.  Caroline is attractive, curvaceous and firm in all the places women are supposed to be.  She smells lovely.  Her perfume isn’t as strong as Emily’s and her hair is soft against his skin, but all he can think about is the expected progression of their night.  It’s as if he’s doing it all for the first time again.  How long do they dance?  When can he kiss her?  Will they go back to her house?  They can’t go back to his.  What if he can’t?  What if it wasn’t just Emily?  He’ll let Caroline lead.  That’s the easiest option.

Lenny goes with it as Caroline moves them.  Bodies are pressed in closely around them, warm and damp from exertion.  He glances down.  Her eyes are closed and she has a slight smile on her face.

He stops looking at her.  He can’t look at her.  He watches the crowd instead.  There are a lot of couples and it’s impossible to tell which ones are new, which have been together forever and if anyone is like him.  He doubts any of them are like him.

Caroline’s hand slips up the back of his shirt.  He ignores the coolness of it and how small and smooth it feels against his skin.

There are women with women in this club, he notices, and men with men.  His dick twitches and he tries to pull his hips back – this doesn’t feel right – but Caroline doesn’t let him move and presses her lips against his neck.

Lenny watches.

There are two men not dancing, despite being in the middle of the dance floor.  They don’t appear to be doing anything but standing close together, but something is happening.  Lenny can sense it. 

He looks away, but only briefly.

They’re the most interesting thing he’s seen all night and the way they’re standing tilted towards each other, inhabiting their space completely, makes him want to cry.  Or hit something.  It’s another moment he’ll never draw. 

Lenny closes his eyes and kisses Caroline.  It’s…pleasant.

When he opens his eyes again the men have moved and recognition slaps him in the face.  The smaller man, the one who’d had his head tucked down and shielded from view, who’d had a hand clutching the other man’s waist and a leg wedged between his thighs, is Carsten.

Lenny pushes Caroline away more roughly than he should and ignores her confused queries as he watches Carsten and whoever weave through the crowd and out the door with their hands linked.

He says something to Caroline, an apology, an excuse, empty words to cover, in the most superficial way, how little he cares.  He shoves past people, his body vibrating and hands moving left and right as he pushes.  By the time he reaches the bathroom he’s almost immobile with something he can’t identify.  This experiment was a giant mistake.

Hands shaking, Lenny splashes water on his face.  A hand grips his shoulder and Lenny looks up into the mirror.

“Are you all right?”

Their reflections stare at him.  He turns and swings and his knuckles split again.

~

Pushing on, Lenny goes back to his routine.  Feeling is a problem so he works on not feeling anything – work, home, alcohol.  He hangs the punching bag in his room again and adds boxing back to the routine.

When his fists hit leather he sees nothing, feels nothing.

Avoiding people becomes a habit too.  He knows when Emily is most likely to be in Mauerwerk or Mokka.  Carsten’s shifts are memorised.  Lenny is busy trying to survive; he’s willing to give up territory. 

He hits the bag again and again and again.  He’s so lost in the pattern he startles when he finally sees his father bracing the bag.

Lenny clenches his jaw and says nothing.

His father leaves his hands on the bag and tilts his head.  “Is it helping,” he asks.

Lenny shrugs and his father nods.  Not properly, just a slight head movement to acknowledge Lenny’s shrug.  They look at each other.  How long it lasts Lenny has no idea.  He’s too busy working out what to do.  His first instinct should be to yell –  that’s what’s it’s been for years now –  followed by the urge to hit.  But his arms aren’t even twitching.  They hang by his side, limp and exhausted.

His father jerks his chin at the bag and says, “Would you mind?”

For a heartbeat Lenny is sure he does, but then he takes half a step to the side and he raises his arm to the brace position.  He doesn’t mind.  In fact, he wants this time.  He lifts his chin to say come on and his lips turn up at the corners as his dad shrugs free of his coat.

At the first punch Lenny smiles completely and meets his dad’s eyes.  The next punch falters – it’s surprise, Lenny knows – but his father smiles back. 

Lenny’s still not telling them.  There’s nothing to tell.

~

He screws up the schedule.

“Hi,” he says, feeling at once gigantic and tiny.

“Hello,” Emily replies, her voice clipped and her eyes downcast.  Lenny reaches out to lift her chin, but stops with his hand halfway up.  They stand, paused as if on TV, and then Emily moves to step around him.

He moves his arm and rests his hand lightly on her shoulder.  He won’t grip it.  He isn’t that man anymore.  “Emily,” he says.  “Please, can we?”

She stops and glares at him.  “Can we what?”

The venom hurts, but it’s deserved so he ignores it.  “Can we talk a little bit?  I’ll buy your coffee.”  He moves his hand, knows he should have moved it more quickly, and steps back to give her some space.  As he does, he realises he feels normal-sized again. 

She’s still wary.  It’s obvious in the way she stands, the way she holds her purse and the tilt of her head.  He still knows her.  That hasn’t changed.  It’s surprising and he blinks at the realisation that maybe he isn’t entirely different.  He smiles.  “Please?”

Emily nods and Lenny nods and grins.  He leads her to a table and pulls the chair out for her.  “Thank you,” he says.  “Cappuccino?”

She shrugs then nods.

At the table, with his hands wrapped around his cup to stop from fidgeting, Lenny says thank you again.  It seems to be the best way to begin and he wants to be humble with her.  She deserves that.  He grimaces at his arrogance and pride and says, “I’m sorry for what happened.  I’m very sorry that I hurt you.  I never meant for any of it to happen.  Please, believe me.”

Emily is holding her cup in front of her face and Lenny knows this won’t be easy.  She won’t talk to him for a long time after this, but at least he’s getting a chance.  “Why should I believe you?  You did nothing but lie and treat me horribly.”

Lenny nods.  It’s all he can do.  She’s right.  “You’re right, but I am telling you the truth, and it doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.”  He’s tapping his foot under the table, wondering where to go next.  “And I did, I do, love you.”

“Some way of showing it.” She snorts.  “You love Carsten more.”

Everything stops.  Lenny has frozen and everything around him disappeared.  “I don’t love Carsten.”  He doesn’t shout, but it’s more aggressive than he means to be.

Emily just raises her eyebrows and Lenny wants to kill her for making his heart race like this.

“I don’t,” he repeats and they both ignore the lie.  “Anyway.  I just wanted to say that I was sorry.”  He stands up, leaving his coffee on the table.  “Please be well.  I wish you all the best.  Always.”

Emily doesn’t look at him as he walks away and he doesn’t look back.

~

Lenny doesn’t screw up his schedule again, but he still runs into Carsten.

There’s been a shift change or a swap, because when he walks into Mokka after work on a Thursday Carsten is behind the counter.  He should check his mother’s paperwork more often.

Lenny turns around.  A couple push past him in the doorway, eager to come in from the cold, and he knows he should just take another step and keep on moving.  He turns back around and walks inside.

Carsten glances up when Lenny steps up to the counter, but barely looks at him again as he takes Lenny’s order and then hands it over.  Lenny just tries to make himself less visible by taking a step back and slouching down.  He says thank you when he gets his coffee, but ignores the shock on Carsten’s face.  He’s been an asshole, he knows that, but he can still be polite.  And the whole thing is Carsten’s fault anyway.

Lenny huddles at a corner table with his back to the wall.  He can’t stop jiggling his leg and he’s staring at his coffee to avoid staring at Carsten.  He curls and uncurls his toes, bounces the table with his knee and knows every flaw in the table top by the time he finishes drinking.  With the last drop gone, Lenny allows himself to look up.

Carsten isn’t even watching him.

Carsten is leaning across the counter to ruffle another man’s hair.  Lenny watches as Carsten’s fingers linger on the man’s face before he draws his hand away.  The man tilts his head and Lenny clenches his jaw and grips the edge of the table.  It’s the same guy from the club.

Carsten has a boyfriend.

Lenny stands up and stumbles over the leg of his chair as he rushes from his corner.  He doesn’t fall flat on his face, but it’s close.  He hurries out of the café and breathes deeply as the cold air wraps around him.

~

In his bedroom Lenny can’t stop shaking.  He stalks from his room to the bathroom and back again.  He slams a flat hand into his reflection in the mirror and pushes at the punching bag as it gets in the way of his pacing.  His restlessness drives him to the kitchen where he makes a sandwich and grunts at his family when they speak to him.

He doesn’t hear what they say.

Back in his room the crumbs of his sandwich litter his chest and suddenly he can’t bring himself to move.  He wants to stay on his back in his bed for the rest of his life.  Lenny brushes the crumbs with a futile swipe and shuts his eyes.  He’s concentrating on breathing when there’s a quiet knock and his door opens.

“Lenny?”

His mother’s voice is soft and tentative, but he can hear the steel underneath it.  His freedom to mope is about to be cut off.  He doesn’t move.  She’s going to come in no matter what.

His mattress dips and a cool gentle hand rests on his forehead.  “Tell me,” she says.  “I love you.”

And so he does.

He says: “I’m in love with Carsten”, “I’m gay”, “Emily found out”, “Please don’t hate me”, “Don’t tell anyone”, “I hate myself”, and “It’s too late”.

During it all she holds him and she doesn’t let go until he stops crying.  When he’s done, but still clinging to her like a child, she says again, “I love you,” and Lenny finally falls asleep.

~

Lenny wakes up to the rhythmic sound of regular punches smacking leather and the creak of his punching bag swinging in its hook.

His father says, “It’s not a joke this time?”  And when Lenny shakes his head, “Do you want to box?”

This time Lenny nods, but he watches his father for a while before standing up.  His head is throbbing and his eyes burn.  “She wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

His father pauses and looks at him.  “I’m glad she did.”

Lenny watches his father for a moment then reaches for the bag and stops it swinging.  “Me too,” he says, and braces.

They stay there until Lenny’s head clears and his hands ache.  When he stops he lets his arms fall to his side and looks into his father’s eyes for the first time since he woke up.

“Please let me love you again,” his father says.

Lenny nods.

~

He changes his routine deliberately.  There’s no plan beyond not avoiding anything any more.  Lucy is at him all the time now, telling him to embrace who he is and start living again.  But she also thinks Lenny should be trying to win Carsten over, which shows she knows nothing.  Carsten is not available, and even if he was, Lenny has no one but himself to blame for destroying any possibility that existed.

So he changes his schedule, but somehow now he ends up in Mokka for most of Carsten’s shifts.

It goes the same way every time.

Lenny walks in and says hello.  Carsten nods and asks for his order.  He orders a latte and asks how Carsten is; Carsten is always good.  When Lenny gets his coffee he takes it to a corner table and pulls out his sketch pad and pencils.

He’s drawing a lot these days.

The pad is the one Emily gave him – it had taken two full pads before he could use this one again.  It makes him think of her; they still aren’t speaking.  The drawings are mostly Carsten with the occasional couple that catches his eye.  Lenny is finding himself taken with couple moments – The Stages of Romance he names them in his mind.

Carsten’s boyfriend is around a lot when Lenny first starts being a Mokka regular, but he’s been around less and less.  Lenny has made a point of noticing when he comes and when he goes and not watching at all in between.  He draws with sharp, solid strokes during those visits and imagines they are very happy together.  He does not, in any circumstances, imagine himself as Carsten’s boyfriend.  Not any more.

~

Lenny’s sketching the couple in the opposite corner – two women on a date, he estimates they’re in the early stages of an established relationship because they can’t look away from each other and neither stops smiling – when someone sits in the other chair at his table.

“Lucy told me you told your parents,” Carsten says when Lenny looks up.

Lenny’s throat freezes and words vanish from his mind.  He nods.

They sit silently for a minute or two, though it feels like forever to Lenny, then Carsten nods and stands.

“I never thought you would,” he says before he walks away.

Lenny knows exactly what Carsten means and the shame rushes through him like a flood.  It still isn’t entirely true.  He isn’t dating women, but the only people he’s told are his family.  It’s not common knowledge that he’s gay.

There’s not much more he can do, realistically.  He’s lost his friends via apathy, there are only one or two he even misses, and the only person he’s interested in is Carsten, who is not available.  His plans are to draw, finish his government job, and leave.  It’s time to start over.

Lenny closes his sketch pad and stands.

~

There are only three months left on his government job and last month Lenny pulled together a portfolio.  There’s an art school in Nürnberg his mother told him about.  It was lucky he’d been drawing a lot.

His dad still wants Lenny to study business or finish a trade, but he’s willing to let Lenny try the art school first.  Lenny is amazed every day that he and his father don’t fight any more.  At least he wasn’t thrown into the street.

He’s at Mauerwerk for the first time in weeks, celebrating his art school acceptance with Lucy and Phillip when Carsten walks in alone.

“More drinks,” he asks and then ducks away before either Lucy or Phillip has a chance to answer.  At the bar he buys drinks for everyone plus an extra beer.

Because Lucy is predictable, Carsten is at their table, stiff and awkward in the chair they’ve pulled over for him.  Lenny walks back and hands Carsten a beer.  “Hey,” he says and sits back down.

Carsten nods.  “Congratulations,” he says, sounding not even the slightest bit happy.

Lenny smiles.  He’s finding it impossible not to lately.  “Thank you.” 

He drinks his beer and tries not to look at Carsten.  Everybody knows, but he still doesn’t want to be obvious.  He opens his mouth once, twice and one more time, but he doesn’t know what to say.  He’s out of practice, especially with Carsten.

“Where’s Stefan tonight,” Lucy asks and Lenny’s head snaps up.

Carsten is making a face at Lucy.  It’s a face Lenny recognises and means that Carsten doesn’t want to answer and knows the person asking is only doing it to provoke him.  He wonders what Lucy knows.

“You already know the answer to that,” Carsten says.

Lucy laughs and tips her face into Phillip’s, who just rolls his eyes.

Carsten looks at Lenny.  “We broke up and your sister is annoying and obvious.”

“Hey!”  Lucy protests, but it’s too late.

Carsten has finished his beer and is standing.  “Thanks,” he says.  “I have to go now.”

Lenny watches him leave; taps his fingers against the bottle in his hand.  Then pain radiates along his shin.  “Fuck,” he says.  “What was that for?”

“Go after him you idiot.”  Lucy reaches across the table and grabs the front of his shirt.  “If you just sit here and watch him leave, I will disown you because you are a fool.”

“Finally,” Lenny says.  “She’s all yours, Phillip.”  But he’s uncurling her hand and standing.

He catches Carsten halfway up the stairs and he only decides what to do with his last step.

Carsten turns when Lenny puts a hand on his shoulder and Lenny grips the other shoulder too.  Then he darts in and presses his mouth to Carsten’s.  It’s nothing special.  There’s no raging passion or heat burning his skin this time.  But there’s no shame either.  Just a simple press of their lips that is warm and real, accepting instead of forceful.

Lenny takes his hands off Carsten’s shoulders and looks him in the eyes.  Reflected in them, he doesn’t feel quite so fractured.


End file.
